shit talk
by redrocketracer
Summary: Whatever anyone said about them would be forgotten because they have each other in their fucked up, dysfunctional relationship. But then suddenly Craig wasn't there to not give a fuck. It was just Kenny, caring too fucking much.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning** : character death, comas, unhealthy relationships, drug use, violence.

 **Summary** :Whatever anyone said about them would be forgotten because they have each other in their fucked up, dysfunctional relationship.

But then suddenly Craig wasn't there to not give a fuck. It was just Kenny, caring too fucking much.

 **a/n** : requested by and for Skylar. Enjoy.

* * *

When news spread of what happened, no one was really surprised. It is sad to say, that the expectations of two teenage boys were so low. Kenny never really cared what other people said about him. He was used to it. He was notoriously known as the poor kid, the bad boy, the one that wasn't going to go far. He even fed into that image.

He got more defensive when it came to Craig though.

Before the incident, they would laugh it off. Craig really could care less as well. People talk shit on them all the time. Kenny would trace Craig's lips with his fingers before pressing his own mouth against the others. It'd become heated, desperate in their drug induced haze. Kenny's hands would roam the taller males body, touching him, feeling the soft flesh beneath his hands. His soft lips would cover Craig's mouth and he'd swallow the pants and moans as he would fuck him. On the ground there would be pills scattered across the carpet, empty bottles of booze, clothes and plates. Whatever anyone said about them would be forgotten because they have each other in their fucked up, dysfunctional relationship.

But then suddenly Craig wasn't there to not give a fuck. It was just Kenny, caring too fucking much.

It all starts the night after graduation.

It is a surprise either of them graduated, honestly. They were seldom in class. Always skipping, spending the day under the covers. They'd lay there with a bottle of whiskey that would later be thrown on the floor, discarded with the rest of them.

They wanted a party. But a private one.

The bed is a gold mine. Craig's grandma gave him a bunch of money and he blew it on drugs and alcohol. Kenny whistles as he picks up the baggy of weed. His gap toothed smile becomes wider as he watches Craig roll a blunt for them. His boyfriend is beautiful. A little bit if a pain in the ass, cruel with words and stoic at times. But beautiful. He can't contain his emotions and leans over to kiss his jaw.

Craig turns his head and their lips meet in a light peck. Nothing hardcore, nothing extreme yet. The night is young.

"I want it to last." Craig explains, voice nasal. His eyes are half lidded and tired looking, dark, unreadable. The blunt finds its way to his lips and he lights.

That is the start of the night. They progressively become more lost in their supply. They fuck a few times, changing positions. Craig riding Kenny's cock desperate and loud, louder than usual. Kenny letting Craig fuck him from behind, pulling at his hair and speaking vile, nasty words into his ear.

Somewhere along the line they decide to climb down the ladder outside of Craig's window. Kenny pulls out the damn thing every time he sneaks into the house. They both think the Tuckers know what is going on, but they choose to ignore it. As long as they don't have to see It, it isn't happening.

They're clumsy and by the last step of the ladder Kenny has to catch Craig before he falls on his ass. Kenny laughs up a storm at this, thinking it is so funny. Craig only raises up his middle finger and dust himself off.

A path of footprints are left behind them as they crunch through the snow. Evidence of their departure. They surely don't know where they are going. But they go. They walk and walk through South Park. The street lights illuminate them as they explore the area. Kenny talks trash. Loud, animatedly about everyone and anything. Talks and talks and Craig listens, keeping his gaze firmly ahead.

They are trudging through some field when they hear it. The slamming of a door, the chatter of humans. They opt to ignore it. Who cares, right? Probably just some kids celebrating. Kenny throws an arm around his boyfriends middle, hands eventually sliding down to Craig's ass.

They stop. Their feet has led them to where their bones were telling them to be. The night is crisp, cool, biting. They have long since left uncharted territory. The only light to guide them is the moon and their cellphones. It is scary, but kind of adventurous.

Craig and Kenny stand in a silence, feeling like the only people on earth. Stars litter the black of the sky, and it is baffling and beautiful. They may be high and gone but if anything, it enhances the beauty. Kenny's hand meets Craig's and he interlaces their fingers.

There is the sound of a car door slamming again, and that brings them back to the reality of the fact that there are other human beings on this earth.

Kenny turns his head in the direction of the vehicle and notices a few kids their age walking towards them. He nudges Craig who looks over his shoulder at them as well. The group of teenagers stop in front of them.

"Well, look what we have here. The bad boys of South Park." The biggest of them all says. He towers over Kenny but misses Craig by a few inches. However, what he lacks in height he makes up with width. He is thick. Thick arms, square face, large torso. Kenny can sense trouble. He stands his ground, though wary. There were quite a lot of people, and only himself and Craig.

"What do you want, asshole?" Craig speaks up, stepping forward. Kenny wants to stomp on his foot, but doesn't. Normally he'd take a challenge. But his eyes roam the group…and he feels something unpleasant twist inside his chest. Danger. This was dangerous. They didn't look a friendly lot and they outnumbered Craig and himself.

There is a chorus of oooh's from the punks. Craig raises his chin up. Kenny still hasn't let go of his hand.

"We want to see just how bad you guys are. You look kind of puny for the reputation you have." He says, he grins maliciously at them. Bared teeth, like a dog getting ready to pounce. Kenny lets go of Craig's hand. He steps in front of him, protective.

"Hey man, we don't want trouble. Just piss off." He starts and there is an onslaught of laughter. Kenny knows what is next, but Before he can think there is a fist colliding with his face. And that is how it starts. It isn't much of a fight, Kenny tries to hold his own, blocking kicks and punches in all directions. He tries to push Craig out of the way. Telling him to run. But he is so stubborn and is trying to fend his own, Kenny watches him go down. It is the last thing he sees before his face slaps against the ground and he is knocked out. It is nothing Kenny hasn't endured. He has died countless time.

He just hopes that is not the case with Craig. Kenny believes in god, though he seldom cares enough to be just and good. But he prays that they don't kill his boyfriend. He prays and prays and prays, feeling the wave of panic and adrenaline in his body as it runs through his head. Please don't kill him. It is his last thought before it goes black.

* * *

Waking up from death is not foreign to Kenny. It is like waking up from a bad, painful dream. Eye lashes that were resting on tanned, freckled cheeks flutter. They twitch before the lids shielding blue eyes from the world open. Kenny sits up straight, head whipping around. He takes in his room. Pills and empty whiskey bottles. Posters lopsidedly hung up. A bong somewhere buried under clothes.

His heart is pounding. He died. He died, what does that mean for Craig? He stands and doesn't bother changing his clothes. His hands quiver as he pulls open his bedroom door. He runs passed Karen and Kevin's room, passed his parents in the living room. He runs and runs and runs through the snow and passed the houses he has grown up around. Has familiarized, knows exactly who resides in them. He runs until he gets to The Tucker residence. The ladder is gone, he notices. It usually is the mornings after, but somehow it makes him feel sick.

He trots up the steps of the porch, fist colliding with the door. Harsh, desperate knocks. He doesn't realize it but he is crying. There are tears rolling down his cheeks, down his jaw and neck.

Laura Tucker opens the door. She looks so tired. Exhausted. Her gaze falls on Kenny and suddenly she looks so angry. It is a quick transition, a dull expression to one of absolute loathing. Laura waits for what Kenny has to say and he doesn't relent. He speaks the first thing that comes to mind.

"Craig. Craig. Is he-where?"

Before he knows it the door is being slammed in his face. The sound of a lock is being clicked into place and it fucking tears Kenny's heart to shreds. His stands there, lost as to what to do.

He stays like that for a good few minutes. Frozen. He does 't know what is going on or what happened. He needs to know. He needs to know what happened to Craig. Needs to know if he is alive. He sucks air into his lungs, feeling like he has stopped breathing for a few minutes.

His feet lead him to the only place he can think to go. Numbly he walks through the snow. Freezing cold, face red and wet from the water works.

Kenny's pace is slow and he arrives at Kyle's house within 5 minutes. His knock is lighter, his demeanor going from being panicked to eerily calm and he is just all around zoned out. Kenny patiently waits for Kyle to open the door, and when he does he looks a bit taken aback. But he then looks angry. That seems to be a common reaction when people look at Kenny lately. The frizz haired boy steps aside to let Kenny in.

They take a seat on the couch in the living room. Kyle was drinking hot chocolate before Kenny came and stirs the beverage with his spoon. The silence is thick. Kenny can tell his 'friend' is mad. It took something like this for him to even speak to him. Kyle initially wasn't happy with a lot of decisions Kenny has been making since they have entered high school. However, when Kenny and Craig started dating it became like they were the only two people on the planet. Kenny became so consumed with drugs and Craig that he stopped talking to people like he used to. It wasn't really intentional. However, he still did it.

"Listen, Kyle—"

"Oh, fuck off. I don't want to hear it." Kyle says. He drops his spoon in the cup and it makes a clanking noise. Kenny flinches a bit. Kyle stands and folds his arms. He looks just as tired as Mrs. Tucker, like he wants to cry or yell or scream.

"He's in a coma." Kyle says. He looks Kenny in the face as he says it too. Hazel eyes burning right into Kenny's blue ones. Kenny looks away, unable to stand Kyle's disappointment. Shit.

He feels his heart drop in his stomach.

He doesn't cry this time. He takes quivering breathes. Trying to comprehend it all. Trying to make sense of it. This is real. This is real, this isn't some fucked up dream.

The couch dips with the weight of Kyle who rests a hand on Kenny's shoulder. He looks a lot more sympathetic now. Hazel eyes fall on Kenny's hands and he covers them with his own.

"Maybe it is for the best. You guys were…unhealthy. Maybe when he wakes up, you can get the help you need." He says. Normally Kenny would tell him to fuck off. Tell him they are great together. Beautiful together. No one knows them the way they knew each other. But in that moment he feels so overwhelmed with sadness that he remains quiet.

* * *

He smokes that night. Hotboxes the closet and tries to calm himself. His hands are sticky from eating cheesy poofs. Drug induced hunger.

When he wakes up it is dark and he is scared because he forgets where he is. After a few seconds of panicking, however, it dawns on him that he is in his closet. Kenny feels around for the door handle. Twists it and pushes the door open to his dim room. The light filters in through the blinds and Kenny steps over trash and clothes to sit on his bed.

This is real.

It is real. It is real, and it begins to settle that he doesn't have Craig by his side to take him away from it. His eyes close. He needs to see him. Kenny needs to see Craig because he can't believe this. It is surreal. Kenny pinches his arms every once and awhile, hoping he'll wake up. When he doesn't he clenches his teeth together.

Kenny grabs Kevin's bike and rides the distance from his house, over the train tracks, through town to Hell's Pass. Without skipping a beat he walks to the front desk. Inquiring where Craig is, thanks. His heart pounds in his ears as he walks, fast paced to the room they told him he is resting.

He gets lost and frustrated until finally he turns around and there is is. An open door with the room number next to it. There is a white board below it, where Craig's name is scribbled. He hesitates at first. Kenny rests a hand on the door frame, closes his eyes. Counts to ten. He isn't sure he is ready to see his boyfriend in such a state when just the other day he was kissing him.

But he opens those blue eyes again. He opens them and makes his way into the room. Kenny stops and his lips part as he takes in Craig's state. He sits down on the chair next to Craig's bed, baffled.

He is bruised and battered. His lip busted, eye black, arms scattered with bruises. Kenny can see what looks like purpled skin in the shape of a hand, wrapped around Craig's arm. Craig's black hair is strangely neat, like it always has been. He looks peaceful, despite his state. His chest rises and falls gently with every inhale and exhale he takes.

Kenny immediately takes Craig's hand in his own. It's limp, and Craig doesn't squeeze back. Kenny doesn't care though, he just misses the physical touch.

He gently runs his thumb across the surface of Craig's skin. Gentle little circles.

Kenny doesn't know why. But he feels like he should talk to him. He always sees that in the movies. Always sees the survivors lover or family talk to them, tell them everything. Tell them stories. So he does.

* * *

They didn't like each other at first.

Kenny laughs as he remembers it. He hated Craig. They were in preschool, and even then he was a negative nancy. Kenny remembers it. He remembers watching Craig play by himself while everyone played together. And when Clyde finally started talking to Craig, he was so mean to the other male. He'd make him cry, would steal his blanket.

He remember thinking he was strange and an asshole. Sometimes he wanted to defend Clyde. But he was a bit scared of Craig at the time.

He was scared of him until they were forced to work together in 1st grade. Kenny remembers it vividly. He remembers following Craig home after school, the other male quiet and cold towards him. He remembers sitting down on the porch and working together on their project. It was simple. Fill out and discuss their family tree. Except it wasn't.

"I don't know who my dad is." Craig says, dully. His brows furrow and he crumbles the lined paper. His half lidded eyes fall on the dirty snow beneath his boots.

"Mom and I were always alone." He says, dull, nasal. Kenny never said anything in response to that. He just took the information in. He didn't pity Craig, but it did make him a bit more human. It made Kenny understand a bit more. If Craig was always alone, then maybe that is what he is used to, right? Maybe he doesn't know how to be a friend. Maybe he is angry that he doesn't have a dad. Kenny still thinks Craig is wrong and an asshole. But it gives him some insight.

This was before Mrs. Tucker married Mr. Tucker and had Ruby. Craig's last name was actually Nommel until the end of 1st grade.

Kenny helps Craig bullshit some elaborate response.

He remembers working on other projects after that. On doing animals close up with a wide angle lens. They aren't especially fond of each other…but they tolerate each other. They even held hands and were partners on a field trip. They had a love hate thing going on. One moment Craig would let Kenny in on something, one of his little projects for school and would let him hold his hand. The next he was explaining how much he hates his group of friend. How he wants things plain and boring. He is confusing.

They enter high school not talking at all. Craig has disassociated himself from their group. Kenny is on to his own devices. He always loved women but suddenly he is taller, he lost the chub from Kyle's spoiling of him with food. He has a job on a farm, is building muscle and girls actually like him. They always thought he was pretty. But now older women are hitting on him too.

The drugs don't come into play until the sex does. Suddenly he is selling. He doesn't know how that happens. His brother just drops it into the palm of his hands and tells him "do your magic". Kevin has always been a dealer. It's all he's know, and now he passes it down to Kenny.

Kenny doesn't notice Craig at all until 10th grade when he is climbing through his window, shakes him awake and drops money on his bed.

"How much can I get for this?" Kenny looks up at him from where he lays and snorts. He takes in that apathetic demeanor. The straight line of a mouth, the cold dark eyes. The contrast of dark hair with pale, creamy skin. The long, slender nose and dorky ears of his that only someone who has seen Craig without a hat would know about.

His tongue darts out and he moistens his lips. When did Tucker grow up? Jeez.

"Enough to get high. Give me a second, Tucker." Kenny says. He pushes his thin blanket off of his body. Leaning over to look under the bed. He pulls out a box and rests it in front of himself. Craig's eyes watches his movements as he opens the lid. Lazily, Kenny pulls out a dime bag of weed and tosses it to the other male.

Craig tilts his head, looking Kenny over with those dark eyes. It makes Kenny flush a bit, the attention. But as soon as Craig's gaze is on him it is gone. He nods his thanks and climbs out of the window. Kenny gets a nice display of his ass. And that is the first time he thinks of Craig that way.

"I thought you had a nice ass. I wanted to pull you back in and bend you over, fuck you from behind. But then I also thought about deciphering whether you were really as cold as your eyes were. I wanted them to stay on me. For your interest to be less fleeting. In a weird way I knew that was the beginning of something. I just didn't know what."

Kenny says this as he rubs circles into Craig's hand. He closes his eyes. Exhales through his nose.

"Visiting hours are over, son." Says a pretty little nurse with blond hair pulled back in a bun. Kenny nods in response. He looks at Craig for a few more seconds, yearning for him to get up and talk back. He knows his wishes are futile. He leans in and kisses Craig's forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the front bottoms echoes throughout Kenny's closet as he hotboxes it again. It has been a week since he graduated and a week since Craig has been in a coma. He visits him every day, but he can't gain up the strength to tell him another story. So instead he looks at his face sadly, yearning. Sometimes he'll fall asleep, hoping if maybe if he's lucky they can meet in their dreams.

It is stupid.

 _You are still here, you are still happy, you are still smiling and laughing..._

He wakes up in his closet again, those lyrics being the first thing that he hears as he comes back from a deep rest. He must of put the song on repeat last night, it was one of Craig's favorites by them. Kenny inhales sharply and tries not to cry at the memory and the significance of the words in this moment. His fingers curl into his hair and he breathes through his nose.

He kicks open his door and stands up in the mess that is his room. Blue eyes take it in, takes in the beer bottles, the dirty plates, the clothes and pills. He never noticed how vile he was living. He was always too consumed with Craig. With loving Craig. He still loves him, but he takes in the dysfunction of the room and has to push down the shit talk of people saying they need help and that they are fucked up.

Kenny sits on his bed. He feels like lately has been going through the motions. He remembers life before Craig. But he doesn't know how to live life after. Even if it is temporary. And it is temporary. Kenny refuses to believe anything but.

His life has ben getting up, throwing on whatever he can find on the floor and then grabbing a pop tart. He always slept in, always woke up an hour or two before visiting hour. He'd grab Kevin's bike and take the ride to Hell's pass routinely.

However, that day something doesn't sit right and before Kenny knows it he is dialing Kyle's number. It is around 1 pm, he doesn't even know if Kyle works. But he feel like he needs him in that moment. This makes Kenny feel guilty again. Guilty because it takes Kenny needing Kyle to talk to him, not wanting to. He knows that although he is a shit friend, Kyle would still be there.

He is, picking up on the second ring.

"What?" It normally would have made Kenny smile, but he can't find it in him. The line is quiet for a few seconds as Kenny tries to think of what to say.

"I just." He starts, why is this so hard? He, Stan, Kyle and Cartman used to be best mates.

"You just?" Kyle repeats, inpatient. Kenny closes his eyes.

"I need help cleaning my room." It is the first thing that comes to mind. It is a bit humiliating, really. But Kyle doesn't laugh. He doesn't laugh and tell Kenny to fuck off. He tells him he and Stan will be there in a few.

Kenny stands outside in the cold waiting for them as if this was the first they were coming to his house. He stuffs his hands in his orange parka. A ratty, beaten up thing that had been a replacement for the one he had in middle school. It was really big on him at the time, but now he's grown into it.

Kenny can make out the figures of Stan and Kyle coming closer and closer. When they get to the train tracks, Kenny waves. No smile, he wasn't even going to try to force it. Stan does smile weakly at him though, and Kyle just remains neutral.

"Shit dude." Stan says. By now his grin has grown larger. For some reason he was expecting Stan to be mad at him. He doesn't know why. Stan has always been more understanding. Kyle is too, but he sure gets angry and stays that way for awhile. If anything, they both shouldn't even be there with the way he has treated them. It makes him mad at himself. He doesn't regret Craig. He doesn't. But now that he has had time to think it over, he regrets leaving his friends.

"Uh. Hey." He says awkwardly. He tries to smile, but it is too forced. Kyle lets out a snort and Stan smiles back half heartedly.

He turns around and leads the way to his room. They haven't seen it since he was a sophmore. He doesn't know what they were expecting or what reaction he was himself. It wasn't the dead silence that falls though. Kenny steps through the mess and clicks the on button on his radio. The front bottoms plays again, and he picks up the first thing he sees. Just an old whiskey bottle on the floor next to the device.

Stan and Kyle watch his movements and before they know it they have trash bags and are helping clean up the mess. Stan gathers all the garbage and dirty dishes, puts things in the sink, cleans the mess for him. Kyle puts Kenny's and what he assumes is Craig's clothes in a black garbage bag.

"I'll wash these." He says when he picks up the last garment. It is Craig's, an old blue shirt with stars on it. Kenny's lips part and before he knows it he is gently taking the article of clothing from Kyle.

"I um, I'll keep that." He says. He rests it on top of his bed, now made. Kenny doesn't explain it to them, but that was the shirt Craig wore the day he agreed to letting Kenny take him out.

When the room is immaculate, thanks to Stan and Kyle's aid, they leave. They don't bullshit around, they have things to do, places to be. They say goodbye to Kenny. Stan actually goes forward and embraces him. Kyle smiles kind of forced. But it is something.

He stands in his now empty room. It smells like lemon.

Kenny takes it in. For some reason it is relieving not to have the room the way it was. It reminded him so much of those lazy days in bed with Craig, of throwing their shit wherever they pleased. He presses the off button on his radio. Picks up the shirt he laid on his bed.

It smells like Craig's deodorant. It shouldn't be comforting, but it is.

There is about two hours left of visiting hour. So Kenny grabs his brothers bike and rides down to the hospital.

* * *

The first time Kenny asked Craig out was after examining him from afar for about four months. Kenny never told Craig, but he was his subject of wank material for a long time.

He was so pretty. Reserved and quiet. Usually alone nowadays. He seemed to prefer it. Briefly, Kenny's mind flashes back to the 1st grade. Of the confession Craig makes about not having a dad. But it was fleeting.

They are on the back porch of someones house. A party going on inside. Normally Kenny has all this confidence but as he steps outside and sees Craig it goes down a few notches for a few seconds. He tries to recollect himself and sits next to him. Smiling, charming and gap toothed.

"Hey." He starts. Craig grunts in response. He is looking down at his cellphone. Now in present time? Kenny knows it was him roaming tumblr. But at that moment he honestly thought it was someone else taking his time and interest, and it discouraged him.

Kenny's smile falters but he doesn't relent.

"I want to take you out sometime." This makes Craig pause with his typing. He doesn't look up right away. And when he does his eyes are cold and dark.

"No." He says, nasal. Kenny finally is in Craig's spotlight. And he sucks up the attention, even if he was clearly turned down.

Kenny, ever the persistent one, doesn't back down.

"I'll make it worth your time." Kenny explains he grins, devious. Craig raises his middle finger up at him, snorting.

"I'm sure."

"I kept trying to convince you I'd show you a good time, Craig. I know you remember. You used to walk away from me as I would follow you down the hallway, telling me to go suck a dick." Kenny traces the lines on Craig's limp palm. His head is downcast and his gaze remains firmly on Craig's hands. The nurses told him he has stitches on the back of his head. That they had to shave a patch of his hair. He thinks Craig would be pretty pissed about it, if he were awake.

"I remember when you said yes."

They were in gym class. Kenny was sitting out that day, having forgot to grab his clothes off his dresser that morning. Craig sat on the bleachers most days, opting to not participate. Kenny plops down next to him and automatically persists with his interest. He's telling Craig about how good he'll make him feel when Craig interrupts him.

"Do you not know how to take a hint?" Craig inquires, nasal. He doesn't look at Kenny, he's pressing his palm into his forehead, appearing irritated and defeated. Kenny shuts his mouth and smirks, pleased. So far this is the most vocal reaction he's pried out of Craig. Usually he tells him to go fuck himself and ignores him.

"Fine. I'll go out with you, asshole. You're driving. Pick me up at 11." Kenny is so excited that he doesn't question it.

"I feel like in that moment I tried to look you over and capture what you looked like. I think that I knew this was my one chance and that I may not get another one...you were wearing this blue shirt with yellow stars on it. Like from Van Gaughs Painting. I found it today. You wore it that night, as well." Kenny closes his eyes and interlaces their finger.

Kenny picked Craig up that night after work. He was grooming the horses, cleaning our their hoofs and brushing their mane when he realizes the time. He has no set schedule, it's an odd job that Kyle found him that pays pretty well.

He finishes up his tasks for the day and says his goodbyes to the owner of the farm. Rushing, he climbs into his brothers old, rusted truck.

The farm is a little bit away from South Park, and he turns on the radio to make time go faster. The sound of some band that Stan showed him plays through the speakers.

Fields of farm land pass by in blurs and Kenny wonders it he'd appreciate the scenery more if he hasn't lived around it for so long. After driving for a while the surrounding become more familiar and Kenny is parking in front of the Tucker residence. It isn't a hassle to find the place. They have lived in the same town for years and have known each other for so long.

Kenny texts Craig that he is there and waits patiently for the other male to come out. He does, and Kenny watches as he closes the door behind him, stepping over snow to get to him. Craig climbs into Kenny's truck, quiet and not bothering to look at him.

Kenny drives off and they sit in silence minus the music emanating from the radio. Craig tampers with it a bit, skipping song after song. Kenny notes that he must be picky with music. He can't seem to decide on a single damn thing. As soon as he finds a song he must like Kenny is parking on the curb of Stan's house. He kills the engine, begins to unbuckle.

"Wait, you are taking me to Stan's house?" Craig inquires, he sounds annoyed. Kenny looks to him and grins.

"Not his house…his shed. It is pretty sweet, dude." Kenny explains. Craig's cold gaze remains on him for a few seconds before he lets out a sigh. He pulls on the handle of the truck, jumping down, boots hitting the pavement. Kenny leads the way to the back of the Marsh residence. Putting his finger to his lips, signaling for Craig to be quiet as they hop the fence.

The lights to Stan's house are all off, everyone must be asleep already. Without further ado they push open the door to the shed. Kenny lets Craig step in first and waits for a reaction as he pulls on the light switch. The shed is set up as a little recreational room. The walls painted a deep red, a couch pushed against one side, a stack of magazines, a radio and a tv. It is simple, but Kenny loves it there. Has so many memories in middle school of fucking around with his mates there.

Craig doesn't say anything, opting to sit on the couch. Kenny digs in his pockets, pulling out a baggy of weed. He lifts it to show to Craig and plops down next to him.

"You took me to Marsh's shed to smoke." Craig starts as Kenny rolls a blunt, Kenny just lets out a low chuckle and passes the stick to Craig. The stoic male turns the joint over before sighing.

"Unbelievable." He says. However, he doesn't leave. Who turns down weed, right? Especially when they don't have to pay for it. They light and smoke. Lazily and quiet. Kenny throws his arm around Craig. It becomes a lot more comfortable, the silence. Craig even rests his head on Kenny's shoulder.

Kenny strokes his hair, and in that moment he can see them doing this a lot more, if Craig would let them.

"S'nice" Craig says, quietly. Kenny smiles, and starts talking. He doesn't know if what he says really makes any sense. But he talks. He talks about a little bit of everything, and a little bit of nothing. He tells Craig about how he wants to be able to fly. How he wishes he was a bird, and Craig actually complies. It makes all the sense in the world to them, and it makes Kenny smile.

After about an hour of talking and smoking, Craig sits up. He ditched the hat that night. His hair is neat. Combed down, curling around his ears, framing his face. Kenny pushes some of those dark locks away from his face.

Craig's eyes close as Kenny's fingers brush against the surface of the skin on his face. Those digits circle Craig's lips for the first time. Feels the soft flesh beneath his touch for the first time.

Kenny leans in and kisses those lips. His hands cupping Craig's face. He expects Craig to push him away and tell him to fuck off, but he doesn't.

He kisses back.

And before he know it Kenny's hand is tangled in Craig's hair. Pulling his head back to expose the flesh of his neck. Craig lets out little pants as Kenny bites and sucks on his flesh. Kenny straddles Craig, rolls his hips down on him. He feels like he can get off by just fucking dry humping him.

They lazily kiss for a little while before Kenny decides to suck Craig off. He gets on his knees, unbuttoning Craig's jeans. Kenny starts by licking a path up Craig's length. He then takes the tip in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head. He furthers Craig's dick in his mouth, and eventually starts bobbing his head, taking him as deep down his throat as he can. He is used to it, but hopes Craig isn't. He wants to give him a good time.

He looks up at the usually so well composed male through lashes and watches his expression. It's pretty, lips parted, face flushed. Kenny jerks himself off on it and when Craig cums and he swallows down the fluid, he cums a minute after of yanking himself off.

Kenny stands and returns his position next to his companion, kissing him on the lips. He wraps his arms around his middle and they lay on the couch together, Kenny holding Craig from behind. They fall asleep like that.

In the morning they wake to the sound of the sheds door being open. Their eyes open to the onslaught of sunlight and Stan's frustration.

"Jesus fucking christ, really Kenny?" Stan says. Kenny shrugs in response and Craig pulls himself out of Kenny's grasp, buttons up his pants, storming out.

"You didn't talk to me for a week after that." Kenny reaches a hand over to push hair that had fallen in Craig's face away. He closes his eyes.

"But I…I think having you that one time? I think I knew that I had to have you more than once."

The same nurse from the first time he visited comes by and tells him that he has to leave soon. He frowns, deep and sad. Kenny kisses The vein he was tracing, hoping to wake Craig as if his kiss was the solution. He leaves.


End file.
